Non Me Lo So Spiegare
by CheSanzGalileii
Summary: Lisbon and Pike's relationship its going better than expected. This fact causes huge changes. Jane, being a creature of habit has a hard time dealing with them. Lisbon x Pike. Angsty Jisbon. Rating will go up eventually. ( Written in English)
1. Chapter 1

**Non me lo so ****spiegare**

_**Disclaimer: **__I do not own The mentalist. Bruno Heller does and sometimes he's just not my favorite person in the world._

The whole situation takes me into some kind of a trance. Not the one where you're deeply relax and comfortable. Just the one in which you're biting down your anger so hard your jaw starts to hurt. They have been dating for nearly a year now and it was expected to happen but honestly, I dreaded the mere thought of it.

As of last night a diamond has been place on her finger, clearly cut to mirror his intentions; a wordless shout that says 'she's taken'. He is possessive after all, just in a classy-flashy kind of way; the subtle way that appeals to her.

While appreciating the stone from the comfort of my couch I can't help but to play absently with my own. Just as mine ties me to the past and restrains me from a future so does hers. It ties her to something of her own, a future I won't be part of. The realization makes me uncomfortable, nauseous, and it makes me wonder: If I dare to take mine off, would hers vanish? Would that gesture detaches us from whatever holding we might be bound to, emotionally or physically? No, I doubt it. Things are not that simple.

It was torture to see her flirting with him around the office. The phone calls, the dressed up dates; that was somewhat bearable. But to watch her walking around displaying that ring its plain agony. It's constant reminder that any kind of hope I had left dangles on a string, slipping in slow motion, allowing me to savor every moment against my will leaving a bitter after taste behind.

"We have a case" Cho tells me as he passes by me, heading straight to the fishbowl. I nod absently and my gaze lingers on her; she's on her mobile, displaying that damned band unintentionally with a smile on her lips.

A couple of hand gestures from my part catch her attention and I motion with my head towards the center of the room where the briefing is intended. She nods and signals me to wait as she says her good-byes, hiding her face from view. This puzzles me, she seems content with anything that has to do with agent Pike as long as I'm not involve in the equation in any way. Why is she afraid I might do something to spoil things for her? I'm aware that it's precisely that course of action the one that would take me out of her life for good. She made it perfectly clear on that flight when we stared to work at the FBI. Therefore, I am trying to be happy for her. She deserves the attention, the flashy dates, the details; as the bouquet of red roses on her desk.

She stands from her seat and I mimic her action heading to the briefing behind her.

"Congratulations on the…" the word just won't come out, I can't spell it. My tongue refuses to, so I motion to her hand.

Yes, she had been engaged before and backed out. But that had been a lifetime ago, she was young and had aspirations to fulfill. Now it is different, she has no reason to back out of it. Her reputation precedes her, career wise she has accomplished more than any other agent at her age and she is finally ready to settle.

She lowers her head, covering her right hand with her left. "Thank you…" she murmurs under her breath. Her body language gives her away, to avoid the topic it's the goal so she fastens her pace and before I can open my mouth again we reach our destination as the briefing starts.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: **__I do not own The Mentalist._

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To end up in a hospital bed wasn't the plan, much less with a bullet in my shoulder. In this field one can't afford distractions, my state it's an irrefutable proof.

"How's the arm?" Fisher asks behind her magazine. Standing ward in my room is required for all the members of the team on Cho suggestion after my sneaking out attempt last night.

"It would be better if I were on my couch, with a cup of tea." I complain. I know I am making fuzz out of nothing but I have not been feeling like myself lately, always on the edge over any insignificant thing. On top of that, the hospital didn't serve any kind of tea that wasn't iced.

Fisher lowers the magazine and I can see her rolling her eyes at me "If you didn't have a history on sneaking out of everywhere someone would have sign your discharge papers" she states matter-o-fact.

A knock on the door stops me from spitting a clever comeback that would bring a repercussion because it had all the intention of hurting her ego. She stands and makes it to the door where, as she opens it, I hear a familiar voice that plasters a smile on my lips. A smile that vanishes as quickly as it formed itself when I see special agent Pike entering the room behind my visitor.

Fisher walks back to her seat and grabs her coat "I'll see if I can find him some tea…" she tells Lisbon as the latter occupies the now vacant seat. "… He has been pmsing over it." she finishes before closing the door behind her. I hear Lisbon laugh as Pike stands behind her.

"How are you feeling?" she asks right away, her voice full of concern and sympathy.

"Like I've been shot at…" I answer bitterly, staring at Pike who's still laughing off Kim's comment. He places his hand on Lisbon's shoulders and I find myself feeling uncomfortable.

"Teresa told me you usually hide at the sight of a gun; yet you ran in head first. That was really brave, Jane."

"Meh." I gesture the comment away as if it wasn't of any importance.

The case we were working on was a kidnap. When we found the whereabouts of the criminals hell broke loose and the 8-year-old girl was caught in the middle of the crossfire.

Before anyone can say anything else, the agent's mobile rings twice before he answers it. "Sorry…" he says taking the device to his ear and heading out.

Silence fells upon the room, and Lisbon clears her throat to call my attention. Once my gaze meets hers she smiles shyly. "Thank you." She says looking a bit uneasy. As if overwhelm by a stampede of emotions. Feelings are not her forte, mine neither.

"Why?" I ask impulsively.

"That bullet was for me…" she state sternly. She's right, it was aimed at her.

I was sitting behind one of the black SUV's that drove us to the warehouse. A collection of old rusty car pieces adorned the place while the gunshots echo around it. One minute she's returning fire across me, taking cover behind the SUV's door. Then, in a flash of a second she's sprinting into the crossfire. I fallow with my eyes her course of action and spot the reason of her action. She had seen the kid hiding between the metals on the far end of the room covering her ears.

As I stood to get a better view of the situation I spot a gunman targeting her, instinctively I rushed behind her despite the flying bullets. All the armed agents were far too busy on the other side of the area and the noise was too loud for her to hear my warning shouts. As she reached the child and I got closer, I realized the man's target was her head. On instinct I sprinted and pushed her out of the way just before the trigger was pulled, all I remember after that was agonizing pain on my shoulder and dull blackness.

"Consider it my wedding gift." I joke vinegary, sounding genuinely glad or happy when addressing the topic of her relationship has not been possible for me to do yet.

"…Jane…" she approaches my bed, leaning forward on the chair. I can feel her hand on my arm, her eyes piercing through mine as if looking for something. Her facial expression changes and all of a sudden she looks tire and defeated, she's about to break that unspoken agreement we entered unwillingly the day she stared dating him; she doesn't talk about her relationship to me and I don't push the topic… much. "…Jane, I…"

The door opens suddenly and we both gaze towards it. "Teresa, do you have the car keys? I can't find them and I need to get to HQ." Pike enters the room, pocketing his mobile, looking expectantly at Lisbon who just nods and puts the mask back. She's not as transparent as she used to be when we first met, but then again… I've never been able to see clearly through her as I used to claim.

"They are right here" she looks in her pocket and flashes the series of keys at Pike. He reaches for them but she pulls back. "I'm driving…" she states and I can't hide the smile that adorns my face.

Pike rolls his eyes and heads for the door. "Take care, Jane." He waves before exiting the room. I nod and wave a quick 'bye' back.

She turns back to me, lowering her face to mine, kissing my cheek. "Bye, Patrick…" she whispers to me before following him and heading out the door. By the way she used my given name I can only assumed that Pike entered the room at a devastating time for my sake. Whatever words were going to come out of her mouth I'll only be able to guess.

I rub my cheek with my good had as the sensation of her lips still lingers there "Night, Teresa…" I murmur to the walls of the empty room.

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**A/N**: _I just want to apologize if there's any grammar error involved here. My first language it's not English,_ _sorry. I did my best tho. Have a nice one. R&R_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: **__I do not own The Mentalist._

* * *

She's leaving.

I spend three days away from HQ in that hospital and instead of a welcome back I get this. She asked for a transfer to DC. Pike's presence has been requested there and thanks to his connections the oportunity for a promotion appeared for her. At least that's what Wiley told me. Seems everyone assumed I knew about the one-way trip. Cant blame them, before Pike we were close.

She's leaving.

Eventually they will marry, buy a house and settle as I stay here to serve my sentence on my couch. I could ask for a transfer as well, I clearly stipulated that I would not work here if Lisbon is not involved. But that won't help, I know better than to try to control her life and question her decisions.

She's leaving.

We will become strangers and I wonder from afar, as Cho hugs her and congratulates her in the promotion, why do I bother to stay. If I refuse to do any type of work involving a case, would I be thrown back into that detention suite? Considerinng whats to come the detention suite would feel like heaven. I came back from the torture I put myself through in exile for her, because I realized I needed her in order to put myself together after Red John. But now she's leaving and I'm still a mess.

I have spent most of the day sitting alone with an immobilize arm, watching the day unfold as if from behind a looking-glass. The situation feels surreal. I have not cross words with her and she has not bother to look for one either. She must think I'm being childish and probably doesn't wants to bother herself with my silly rants.

Yes, I have a tendency to act in a childish manner about what I don't like, but this time it's different. The truth is that I'm trying to find the courage to let a chapter of my life go. A thirteen-year-old chapter in which her presence gave purpose to the shell of a man I became after my family was murder. Frankly I don't want to find the bravery to let go because I don't want her to leave.

"You staying here?"

Cho brings me out of my train of thought as he turns off the computer on his desk. I shake my head and signal Kimbal to give me a hand, even standing from a couch with a useless limb it's hard. He does.

Once on my feet I spot her near her former desk, putting what's left of the belongings inside a box. My heart drops, a slap of reality hits me hard as if trying to wake me up from my stupor but all I can manage to do its to lower my head in defeat.

"You had thirteen years to make a move and you didn't." states Cho firmly.

He is right. If I wanted her to stay besides me I had a thirteen-year-old chance to make it count. I took that opportunity to do the opposite, I drove her away with secrets and bad desicions.

"At least say good-bye… it might bring you closure." With that Kimbal turns and exits the bullpen without further ado. I like Cho, always cutting to the chase and been objective; a man you can rely on. But to be honest, he has not been very helpful or supportive today.

I approach her desk and her gaze meets mine. "Need help?" I should kick myself in the gut. If she needed help I would be less than useful with my futile extremity. She seems to have read my mind because my question diverts her eyes towards my arm.

"Seems I just used the worst set of words to break the ice…" I say jokingly, lowering my head. She laughs. It's short and low, more like a chuckle than anything else but it makes me feel somewhat better.

"Here…" she hands me a couple of files I can carry easily with my good hand. "…just don't let them fall." She takes the box with both hands and for a glimpse of second I'm able to spy its contents. I freese in place the moment I spot an origami paper frog inside of it. I gave her that so many years ago, still she kept it.

Half way to the elevator she turns "Jane?" I must look as dumbstruck as I feel. The damned frog gets to go with her to DC while I stay behind with my misery. Life is so grant…

"Coming." I call back, rushing to stand at her side as the elevator arrives.

We mount the stainless steel structure in silence and dismount it the same way. I walk up behind her to the SUV where I hand her the files as she opens the passenger seat to place the box, placing the files on top. Lisbon closes the door and moves towards the driver's side. I fallow her.

She stands by the door, holding the handle hesitantly. I'm right besides her, looking for the right words, the precise action. But it fails to come to me.

"Take care, Jane." She tells me, turning to face me. Her hands reach up to my injured shoulder and rest it there, caressing it lightly. "Please, don't get killed." She intends to joke, a wiry smile on her lips. My hand rushes to rest on top of hers, our gazes meet. I open my mouth to say something, anything but I find myself overwhelm by the situation.

I could ask her to stay, to reconsider her actions, to marry me instead! But I don't. She'll think I'm trying to control her again, that I do not respect her and her decisions, that I'll be deceiving her with a false proposal. Thus, a 'Good luck' it's all that comes out.

She looks disappointed; at least that's what I make of her facial expression. But as fast as the mask dropped I came back up. She smiles and pats my shoulder softly, "Thanks…" she murmurs under her breath, lowering her head. The door to her SUV opens and she enters it without hesitation.

As she pulls out of the parking lot it starts to rain. I should run for cover but the dullness insides me keeps me from moving. I stay there, watching as the lights of the vehicle fade in the distance.

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**A/N:**_ R&R_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer: **__I do not own The Mentalist._

* * *

No one expects a visitor at three in the morning because normal people don't visit others at that time. More so, no one in their right mind would break into a federal agent's house despite the time of day… period. Is a good thing I'm not normal or have a healthy state of mind, otherwise I would still be standing under the pouring rain at FBI's head quarter.

The lights inside the loft are off. I pick the door's lock and open it slowly, it usually doesn't take me as long as it did but I'm functioning at fifty percent of my physical capacity due to my unwell arm that .

Once inside, when my eyes adjust to the almost absent light of the room I notice that its fill with piles of boxes. It reminds me of her place in California, I doubt she ever unpacked them in the first place. For some reason she never does, I bet it's her way of making a silent statement that says 'this might be my house but is not home'. After she moves to DC with Pike, would she unpack? I shake my head and close the door behind me, careful not to make any sound. I know I'll have to wake her up at some point if I intend to talk to her but I rather dry out a little first, my wet shoes are ruining the carpet. Good thing she's not packing it too since it seems it came with the place.

Walking around the house I wonder if she would shoot me on sight for sneaking in. She definitely might, there's no doubt. Afterwards she would be sorry but convince me it was my fault, and I would have to agree with her even if I don't verbalize it. This is not one of my best idea, so many things can go wrong.

I find the bathroom through the darkness and grab the first towel whiting reach. Luckily my clothes didn't get as wet as my shoes or my hair so I run the fabric by my locks to dry them off. While on task I can't help but stop for a second to breathe in the aroma of the piece: white roses, vanilla, caramel… a warm and comfortable scent that has her name written all over. I smile, pressing the piece to my nose. It has dried off but she must have used it before going to bed, I assume.

"Put your hands on your head or I will shoot…" her voice states calmly behind me. Gladly, she didn't shoot me on sight as I presumed, but she did bring that blasted gun into the matter. It didn't mind that I walked around in the darkness tiptoeing, she must have felt a disturbance in the ambience and woke up on instinct. That must be the so call six sense cops tend to develop… I called it paranoia, till now.

It's too dark for her to recognize me, even more as I'm standing with my back to her. I also realize that the towel covering my head doesn't help my case either. Fearing she must be pointing her gun directly to my head I decide to do as requested, well more or less. "If I could raise them both I would…" I raise only my sane arm for obvious reasons "Just don't shoot."

I sense her approaching when suddenly the room lights up. I close and open my eyes a few times, allowing them to adjust to the glow of the bulb. Before the adaptation ends I feel her hand on my shoulder, turning me around.

"Jane?" she lowers the gun after putting the lock back on, studying me up and down. "What on the name…"

"Hello." I greet, pulling the towel around my neck. To be honest, I find her attractive even with bed-hair and that old jersey she still uses as pajamas.

"Give me one good reason not to shoot you right now" she states harshly, clearly uncomfortable. As I open my mouth she signals me to pause with her hand. "Just remember I could get away with it, you did break into my place after all. So make it a good one" she finishes with a grin on her lips, placing a hand on her hips while the other one's still holding the Glock carelessly.

I open and close my mouth a couple of times. There's a big chance that whether I give her the reason I'm here or not things will not turn out for the best. Before I can say anything she lets out a frustrated sigh. "Come on…" the gun its left next to the sink as she motions me to follow behind "…let's get you warmed up"

Walking behind her we enter the kitchen where she places a kettle on the stove and proceeds to heat up some water. "Seat" she says motioning to the chairs that stand behind the small table besides the kitchen. She's must be in a god mood despite the circumstances. I expected her to cut my head off, not to make me tea. Well, she is getting rid of me in a few hours of course she's happy.

The kettle whistles and she rushes back to the kitchen, emerging minutes later with two teacups. One of them it's placed in front of me before she takes her seat across my place. I sip it once and immediately notice the unfamiliar, yet pleasant combination of honey, bourbon, and lemon that gets elevated with hints of vanilla and bergamot thank to the Earl Grey tea. She actually has some of my favorite tea in here, who would have guessed it?

"Hope you don't mind the alteration, only you and perhaps God could drink this without it." Can't lie, it does have an enjoyable taste plus it warm me up a little.

She sips her own, staring at me expectantly. "I'm still waiting for an answer." I nod, of course she is.

"Well, you are leaving in the morning…" I start. She nods so I continue. "…I just…I never said a proper good-bye and…"

"…breaking and entering it's a nice way to do so." I really wish she had not taken this time for sarcasm.

"No, I just wanted to tell you that I lied."

"Jane, really…" She rolls her eyes and takes a sip of tea again, smile on her lips "…you didn't need to come all the way to tell me that… I'm aware that's what you normally do." she teases, I've really made her immune to anything I might say.

"What I mean to say it's that I never forgot." I insist a little frustrated.

"What are you talking about?" she asks, somewhat intrigue. Her voice didn't sound as calm as before and the smirk has vanish. The atmosphere has turn more serious.

I lower my head and the teacup becomes the most intriguing piece if china I had ever seen. "That time I fake-shoot you…"

"No…" she says firmly. "…you are not going there." The sound of a dragging chair makes me look up and I catch her standing. "Get out" she states, pointing to the door.

"Lisbon…" I plead, standing as well "…Teresa, please just hear me out…"

"Enough" she walks up to me, pushing my body towards the exit. The door opens, outside the rain's still falling. "Out"

"You have to hear me out…" I almost beg before my body crosses door.

"No! I don't!" she yells at me, stopping on her tracks "There's nothing you have to say that I neither need nor want to hear. I've known you for third-teen-years and now out of all times you decide to put your shit together?!" she hits me on the chest and I stumble backwards but manage to find support against the door frame. "Jane, I'm leaving in less than 6 hours…" her voice drops "I'm getting married in two weeks, what are you expecting?"

"Definitely not this…"

"Where's my gun?" her demeanor changes, she's definitely pissed now. The moment she charges back to the bathroom and I decide to follow, closing the door behind me.

"Teresa…" I grab her hand and turn her to face me.

"Jane, Marcus it's a great man" she states harshly as if that way I could understand it at last, but that I already do. The real problem here is my inability to accept it since I'm not that kind to man.

"You deserve a great man" I say, admitting it to myself even as the words pain me immensely. That man has her on a pedestal; he doesn't lie nor hide things from her. He loads her with compliments and fancy dates now and then, I've seen it and am aware of it.

"I do…"

"Yes, you do…" I acknowledge, the bitter taste of my own words threatening to choke me.

I grab both her hands inside my own and lower my forehead to hers. It feels nice, the proximity, the closeness, the intimacy. This is as physically close as we have ever been… we would ever be.

"I hate you" she murmurs, her eyes bright with moisture.

"No, you don't…" I know she doesn't and she shakes her head, agreeing with my statement. "I am going to be as honest and transparent as I always should have been with you. I don't want you to go…"

"Patrick…" she tries to pull away but I don't let her.

"Wait… Even if I'm still the same arrogant-secretive-self-centered man I've always been it doesn't mean you are the same woman who used to follow through with him. I had my chance and I disappeared. I meant exactly what I said that night. I still do, and as I said before I don't want you to leave but because I meant it I'm aware that you deserved to be happy. If he makes you happy I want you to fallow through even if it's far away from here. I just… I just needed you to know that. Also, I wanted to apologize for everything. I'm deeply sorry, Teresa."

"Why have you taken my last hours here to be all open and sincere with me?" she asks, her hand caressing my cheek. She knows why. I just can't bring myself to say the words before watching her go.

I shrug.

"Because that's the least you deserve after so many years of been my 'handler'?" I joke. She stares at me dubiously, reaching slowly for the neck of my shirt.

"I might or might not regret this" she says before pulling me closer to her and kissing me.

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**A/N:** _R,E & R._


End file.
